Today's Top 5 Mulligans — Wed 12 Aug 2026

The Wyndham Championship, that annual scramble where dreams of extending the golfing season are either miraculously saved or unceremoniously punted into the rough, delivered its usual heaping spoonful of exquisite agony.

Ah, golf. That grand old game that asks you to dress like a peacock and think like a chess master, only to reward you with a bladder infection and the overwhelming urge to hurl your five-iron into a nearby water hazard.

Brooks Koepka's grand return to the PGA Tour, which felt like watching a rockstar leap back on stage after a questionable solo album, has apparently hit a bit of a snag. Instead of a triumphant coronation, we've got observers scratching their heads, wondering if this whole season is a full-blown existential crisis or just a really, really bad hangover.

Well, folks, the grand circus of the U.S. Amateur has seen another act tumble from the high wire. Arni Sveinsson, a chap with a world ranking that sounds like a secret code (number 12, if you're wondering), decided Merion's hallowed grounds were more suited for a quick exit than a lengthy tango.

You hear whispers of golf shenanigans, sure. A stray ball here, a fudged scorecard there. Those are just the gnats, the annoying little bugs buzzing around the majestic cathedral of the game. But the recent kerfuffle at WingHaven Country Club, starring one Zach Holland, takes golf larceny from a petty shoplifting charge to a full-blown, operatic spectacle of deceit.